


Alternate Ending to 'Tunguska'

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:30:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Post *Tunguska*, pre *Terma*.  Mulder is forced to rely upon Krycek to survive in the gulag.





	Alternate Ending to 'Tunguska'

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Alternate Ending to Tunguska By cathy lee

From Tue Dec 17 07:07:07 1996  
*still hasn't shone up on the ng after 8 hours so here it is again*

Standard disclaimer: I don't own the characters, CC and Co., 1013, FOX Broadcasting, etc. do, so any money you may feel compelled to send to *me* having enjoyed this story, (HA!) please send directly to them.  
This is a very short post-Tunguska story that was written before Terma aired and obviously does not take any of the (horrible, thanks CC) events of Terma into account. I wrote this because of the obvious interest in M/K slash that has been expressed quite comically and quite enthusiastically on ATX over the last few weeks. Bon appetit ladies, (and gents).  
M/K slash, NC-17, no Puritans or minors please. This story depicts mildly nonconsensual sex between two men and is very sexually graphic. As you can see, in the beginning, the description of the jail cell is quite a bit different from the one depicted in the show. But then again I thought the set designers really went over the top with that one, damn place reminded me of what the Bastille must of looked like on the eve of the French Revolution! Note also; I promptly kill off that pesky Solzhenitsyn-type from the next cell who would *dare* to come between our moose and rat.   
Summary: Post-Tunguska, pre-Terma. Mulder is forced to rely upon Krycek to survive in the gulag.

* * *

Alternate Ending to Tunguska  
By cathy lee

"Mulder, its all right, I'm here." 

A gentle hand lay on his forehead as the low whisper continued close to his ear. 

"Wake up Mulder, you're going to be okay." 

Ahh, how many times had he regained consciousness to those sweet words? Before his brain was even registered that something was very different this time, he began to stir and a sweet comforted smile came over his face. But when he opened his eyes, he beheld filthy plaster, broken and falling from a low unlit ceiling, a ceiling mostly covered by huge mosquitoes.

"Where the hell am I, what the hell is going on?" He was actually starting to remember, his beloved partner, Scully, was not there, nor was this a cushy Northern Virginia hospital. Instead there was Alex Krycek, his sworn enemy, knelling beside a lousy and broken-down cot. He was in Western Siberia in some type of a prison and he'd been experimented on. Vaguely he remembered the epideral roughly administered by several Joseph Mengele types who had burst into the cell... he didn't know how long ago, could've been hours, could've been days, even weeks. And even thought he was covered by a few filthy institutional blankets, he was now apparently naked. He felt like he'd been beaten, the normal vitality was completely drained from his limbs.

Without removing the hand from his forehead, Alex continued gently explaining the situation. "You've been out for almost two days. They threw you back in here, naked, yesterday morning and you've been sleeping ever since."

He tried lifting his right arm to belt the man in the face but somehow the muscles refused to cooperate, but at least he was able to knock away the offending hand from his face. Besides, he vaguely remembered, he needed to rely on him if he was ever going to get out of Russia alive. 

"I need some water."

His cell mate held up a bowel of fresh, clear liquid, unlike the pestilent swill he'd last been given. It tasted like gold going down his throat. He gazed thankfully at Alex.

"You've been experimented on, I think...," he hesitated, "I think they burned you. You don't have any hair on the lower part of your legs and large portions of your toenails are missing and they're scorched."

"I don't feel any burns." Suddenly he was seized with an irrational panic, what if they'd burned him so badly that all of the nerve endings in his skin were annihilated? With a sudden jerk he ripped the blankets away from his legs and was surprised to see normal whitish skin, pinkish in areas, but entirely hairless from the middle of the thigh down. Blackened areas were clearly visible on his toenails however. 

"But I'm not burned at all, how could this be?"

"I think our Russian hosts have discovered something that will make a person immune to fire. But not just fire Mulder, immune to *everything*, suffocation, starvation, exhaustion, poison, radiation, even aging."

Mulder looked at his cell mate as if he was out of his mind but he felt so weakened he could barely continue to ask the questions that were overtaking him. He weakly collapsed back onto the filthy cot. 

"You need to eat Mulder, there's some sausages and bread over on the table, they're not hot anymore but they are good. Drink as much water as you need. I'm going to try to get you some more clothes tonight."

Suddenly a clicking noise on the cell door alerted him to the entry of the guards but even after a few seconds no one came in. He noticed that Alex was grimly regarding the door. 

"Its unlocked, ...isn't it?"

Alex assumed a rapid whisper. "I have to go now, I'll be back in about an hour. Eat and drink as much as you can as you can and try to go back to sleep. You need to get your strength back up as quickly as possible." He arose and exited of the surprisingly unlocked cell door without even looking back at Mulder. He quietly closed the door behind himself and re-engaged the large unseen dead bold from the outside of the cell.

Eventually Mulder sat up and pulled the plate of sausages and bread over to himself from the rough wooden table between the cots. His brain was pounding from one side of his skull to the other. It was ten times worse than any hangover he'd ever experienced, but he was still ravenous. He grabbed the black bread off of the plate and began shoving it into his mouth followed by large bites of cold greasy deermeat sausage. Normally he would never have considered touching food like this but he knew that the alternative was starvation. He considered the roachy thin soup they had been given the first day. This was an Epicurean feast compared with that inedible slop. My God there was even an orange on the table. They'd been given oranges!! He would never have imagined it after the first day. Maybe Alex had been able to work something out with the supervisor since they were Americans. Maybe Alex had told them that they were traveling on a diplomatic visas.... 

Despite almost two solid days of it, Mulder found himself succumbing once again to an irresistible sleepiness. After having eaten his fill he lay back down on the cot and briefly counted the gigantic mosquitoes on the ceiling before his heavy lids feel close. 

When Mulder came to again, it was pitch dark outside. Krycek was back in the cell sitting on the side of the cot with his face buried in his hands. With his returning strength Mulder pulled himself up and surveyed his surroundings. The institutional florescent overhead shown down on the filthy and pealing linoleum tile floor. The walls were covered with graffiti and smashed bugs. Their thin mattresses and blankets were covered with urine stains, and in the corner sat a foul toilet and a totally rusted cold water sink. Alex had Mulder's clothing lain across his cot, except for his pants which were substituted by gray drawstring prison trousers. 

"I got your clothes back Mulder, except for your jeans, I don't know what happened to them but they gave me some others instead. I think they belong to that guy who died yesterday." Without even looking up Krycek tossed the pile of clothing over to the other cot. 

"What guy?"

"The one in the next cell, he slit his wrists with a homemade knife yesterday. Also I found out we're going into the mines tomorrow. they're actually not mines though, we're picking up rocks along the river. I guess you can imagine what that's all about. The same kind of rocks Charlie Brown got in his trick-or-treat bag."

"They're not dangerous, are they?"

"I think they're the most dangerous thing in the world. What we have to do is to be able to identify them and then avoid them at all costs. We'll pick up every other rock by that river except for those black meteor fragments."

"What's going on Alex, I thought you were going to talk to the supervisor." 

Alex looked up briefly and resumed staring at the floor. He sounded exasperated. "I did Mulder, but I wasn't able to convince him to let us go. I was beaten and thrown back in here while you were gone. They know we're Americans but I think they have no intention of letting us go after what we've seen. We'll probably be murdered. They'll blame our deaths on criminals, it wouldn't be the first time. That's why I've decided that we have to escape. I'm already working on a plan. Within two days we'll be out of here. Neither of us can survive too much experimentation."

"But I thought you said they had a cure or an immunity to just about everything. My God, they burned my legs but I wasn't burned."

"Yeah, but every time it goes out of you, you lose more and more of your ability to sustain life on your own. You can only survive three or four evacuations, ...then your dead." 

Mulder resumed talking with a low whisper. "What are you talking about Krycek?"

"They call it the black cancer." Alex shrugged his shoulders, "I dunno,...I think I've been infected with it myself before, I don't really remember but I do remember black oil. My memory of the infection is completely irraticated. I woke up locked in a missile silo somewhere in North-fucking-Dakota." Suddenly the lights went off and they were thrown into almost total blackness.

"Tell me more about your plan to escape. Are we going to make a run for it from the river tomorrow?"

"I don't know if we'll be able to, they keep everyone shackled at the ankles. I was out there earlier today. I couldn't really figure out which way to go. They kept turning us around to keep us disoriented." Krycek lay down on the cot and pulled his thin blanket around his shoulders. "I don't want to talk about it now. I need to sleep,...tomorrow." 

Mulder lay back down and for the first time, realized that the cell was very cold. He fumbled in the darkness for his clothing and pulled it on without ever getting out from under the blankets. Since there was absolutely no heat in the cell, he pulled his body up into the fetal position for warmth. Soon the weather would be changing to definite cold and he and Krycek would have to lay together simply in order to survive. The idea turned his stomach.

The next morning they were awakened by the clanging of two tins of food sliding under the cell door. Alex ran over and took a look at it. It was the same inedible slop they had been offered daily for almost a week, smelling like grease and partially rotted potatoes. Alex dumped both bowls of the crap into the toilet since there was still enough sausages and bread to fill them up for that morning and Alex promised he would get more later. 

"I know who to talk to, I'm sure they gave us this shit by mistake."

"I hope so, I don't care what you have to do, but I can't eat that crap." 

Alex let out a quiet sarcastic laugh. "You never have known what its like to fight for your very survival, have you Mulder?"

The nerve of that shit, to suggest he'd had it easy. "Of course I have, I've had people out to kill me before, I've been beaten, I've had members of my own family kidnapped and killed..." Suddenly his voice was paralyzed by hatred when he realized exactly who he was talking to, the very man he believed had killed his father. 

For the rest of the day they didn't speak. They were chained at the ankles four men apart in a line of about fifteen men. They spent the day walking back and forth along a section of river bank. By shouting at the top of his voice in Russian, a heavily armed guard with a whip tried to explain to him exactly what to look for. Mulder glanced over to Krycek for a translation but Krycek was deliberately looking away. Mulder tried to indicate that he didn't understand and was answered by two harsh whip cracks against his back. The prisoner next to him felt sorry for him and held out a black rock in an attempt to explain what to do. It was obviously a large black meteorite, the type of which lay scattered about the river bank, similar to the rock he and Scully had intercepted at Dulles International. 

Many of the prisoners on the chain gang ignored the rocks as they past them, others picked them up. He looked over at Alex. Alex held a rock, but obviously it wasn't one of the meteorites. He observed Alex setting it down and then picking it up again over and over throughout the day. Occasionally the prisoners would be filed past a large metal gurney to deposit their rocks but Alex never let go of his. The guard obviously saw this but ignored him. Out of fear of getting whipped again, Mulder picked up the black rocks. Often prisoners who were able to reach them would pass them over for him to hold until they once again filed past the gurney. Nobody seemed to have much enthusiasm or energy for the work, not even the guards. They seemed much more interested in racing their horses up and down the river embankment or occasionally stopping to whip or scream at a prisoner. During the later part of the day, Mulder was on the unfortunate position in the chained line to be dragged through almost two feet of cold standing water. After about forty minutes he was shivering uncontrollably and was hardly able to move his feet or pick up a rock. He almost cried with relief when the line of prisoners was pulled away from the river and forced to push the laden gurneys up the embankment and onto a small rail line that lead to a set of building adjacent to the prison. 

The routine continues for several days. They worked picking up rocks, Krycek only pretending to work however. After the first day both Americans were chained side-by-side. They were able to converse quietly together in English. But Mulder never asked him anymore about the rocks, the black cancer or the experiments. He figured they had been gone close to a week, something had to be happening, Scully knew about his contact at the UN, she'd be able to tell him where he'd gone. They were bound to be rescued before they were murdered. 

There'd been an odd incident in the showers two days after he'd recovered from the experiments. As usual the chain gang had been unlocked and herded into a large shower room for their five minute lukewarm shower. Something was going on, he couldn't tell exactly what, but there was a commotion between two men at the end of the room.

"Stay close to me Mulder," Krycek muttered quietly. A man was walking up to them with a threatening manner. As he approached he let out a stream of angry Russian which Mulder could only guess the meaning of given the man's gesture's and tones. Alex quickly answered him back angrily and moved in between his former partner and the other man. They argued for several minutes, the other man occasionally glanced around at Mulder sheepishly rinsing before the entire water system was shut off with a loud clank shaking the entire antiquated plumbing system. 

Eventually the man moved away, he seemed to be issuing more threats. As soon as he was out of hearing range Mulder nervously asked, "Don't tell me, you told him I was your bitch?"

"Well actually Mulder, that's exactly what I told him. He's mad because he thinks that neither of us were doing enough work on the line. One of us would have to pay for it by doing some other kind of work, and he decided it would be you." An angry bitterness entered his voice, "I told him you were with me and if he ever came near you I would kill him." 

He shuttered at the thought. But before he allowed himself to be thankful he wondered if perhaps Krycek was lying to make him more dependent upon him. Afterwards the men filed into a small dressing area to retrieve their clothes and then were led back in pairs to their cells. Krycek didn't speak to him again until they were back.

"We've got to get out of here Mulder. It's only going to get worse. I have some friends here in Russia, but I can't get in touch with them until we get out of here."

Mulder's ears perked up at this last remark, probably former business associates from his information peddling days, people in the government perhaps.

"If I could only convince the guards to let me use the phone I could call them and get us out."

What in the hell did Krycek have going on with the guards? Mulder wondered. He obviously was getting extra favors, better food, lighter work, and, except for the first day, neither of them had been subjected to experiments. At first he's assumed it was because they were Americans, but then Krycek'd said that they would in all likelihood be *murdered* because they were Americans. Every evening at around ten the door was unlocked and Krycek left for about an hour. Something was going on. With his heightened sense of paranoia he couldn't help but imagine that they were plotting against him.

Later that evening, as they were lying in their cots waiting for the lights to go down Mulder broached the subject. "Where exactly have you been going every night Krycek? When the door is unlocked?"

The other man laughed and rolled his eyes, "Where do you think Mulder? Why do you think the guards have been so bearably restrained with us? Why do you think we have better food than any of the other inmates, we've been spared the experiments? We're still fucking alive?"

"Cause we're Americans, I guess."

"Wrong fucker, I have a working relationship with two of the guards. I do favors for them, and they do favors for me. ...I told you I would do whatever it takes to stay alive, why I'm protecting you too is a complete mystery to me. I sure as hell don't need your diplomatic visa ass to get out of this country."

Mulder stared back at him incredulously. Surely what Krycek was suggesting couldn't be true.

"Don't open any doors you're not prepared to go through Mulder." Just then the cell door clicked unlocked and Krycek prepared to exit. "Goin' to work, ...see ya, man."

After Krycek left Mulder lay on his cot and considered what the other man was suggesting. It really bothered him, that his cell mate was with the guards, and he couldn't stand to think about what they might be doing. He'd actually become very possessive of Alex and absolutely reliant upon him over the few days they had been in prison together. He felt so alone in this place where hardly anyone else spoke his language, and he needed Alex to be near him constantly. At that very moment, more than anything else in the world, that was exactly what he wanted, more than even returning to the United States and back to Scully, more than pursuing his constant search for the damn truth, more than anything. He turned on his side and lay awake, listening for the creak of the door signaling his cell mate's return.

The night of their escape he waited fifteen minutes behind the unlocked door just as Krycek had instructed. Then he quietly pushed the heavy door open and glance down the bleak and empty prison corridor. His pockets were full of the bread they had been hoarding over the last few days in preparation of their flight. Alex's last act in the cell had been to load up Mulder's pockets with the stuff while had stood still with his arms extended. It was a gesture that bespoke the strange kind of affection that had developed between the two men over the few days they had been locked up together, an unusual affection that was nevertheless built around an underlying hatred and mistrust.

He tiptoed down the hall and stopped outside the guards' room and waiting for Alex. He looked around for cover in case anyone else should appear, but there was absolutely nothing so he crouched down in the shadows as quietly as he could. Suddenly Alex emerged from the guards' room with a quirky grin on his face, making little effort to be quiet or to stay covered. "Its all right Mulder, I've been all over this building every night for the last five nights. There's nobody here. The only other guards this time of night are outside." Krycek pulled a map of the prison complex out of his pocket and pointed to the guard posts. Mulder was completely astounded at his resourcefulness. 

"And as slack as this place is run, those guards probably wouldn't even be at these posts. In case you haven't noticed, they use starvation, exhaustion and torture to keep the prisoners in line around here, ...not security."

"Aren't we locked in?"

Krycek answered him by pulling out a full ring of keys and dangling them in his face, from the pocket of the jacket which he recognized as belonging to one of the guards.

"Guess not, ...that's the guard's jacket, isn't it?" Mulder whispered.

"He gave it to me since I did something *especially* nice for him tonight."

He didn't want to know anymore. He shut up and followed Alex down an unfamiliar corridor to a set of double wooden doors behind a filthy industrial kitchen. Once they were outside they carefully picked their way across the compound. Their escape became more urgent when suddenly, from all around, what seemed like twenty guard dogs broke into a cacophony.

They ran and ran and the barking grew fainter as they distanced themselves from the prison. Somehow in the middle of the night they were able to find the location of the wire that they had dug underneath over a week earlier and throughout the night the picked their way through the woods back to the road where the truck driver had originally let them off. Mulder was amazed by Krycek's ability to navigate in the darkness. Even though he hated Alex, he once again found himself thankful for his presence. 

They walked along the road for several hours while the sun was coming up. By this time they would be noticed missing from the camp and guards would be searching for them so they avoided the vehicles on the road at all costs. When cars and trucks passed they hid in the woods and continued walking only when no one was in sight. Later in the afternoon they came upon a small cluster abandoned cabins. By the look of the disrepair, Mulder figured it had probably been housing for some type of mining or agricultural project earlier in the century. By the side of the camp there was a clear stream from which to drink. After having their fill from the stream they took shelter in one of the cabins and ate the now stale bread that Krycek had earlier loaded in Mulder's pockets. 

"Maybe we should sleep here for the night Mulder?" 

He didn't answer back, he didn't like the idea of stopping at all, not until he got to a phone and was able to call the American consulate in St. Petersburg. But then again, they had been walking for over sixteen hours and they'd been awake for nearly thirty. He couldn't go on any longer. Once he assumed a sitting position, his legs refused to move again. Alex wearily sat down in another corner of the small shack. He couldn't help but notice that they were sitting about twenty-five feet apart. It was odd, except for Krycek's visits to the guards and his own removal for experimentation, this was the furthest they had been apart physically since they had come to Russia. And all day long whenever they had been forced to hide off of the road, the had lain together closely and quietly side-by-side while the vehicles passed. Mulder notice the distance between them now and it made him curiously uncomfortable.

After about twenty minutes in which both men caught the breathe and contemplated their next moves, Mulder decided to break the ice. But, as it turned out, the ice was much thinner and more treacherous than Mulder would ever have liked to know. 

"I just have one question." His voice cut through the silence which had begun to assume an uncomfortable awkwardness. 

"One question?"

"Yes."

"Well, what is it."

"What exactly did you mean about doing favors for the guards?"

Krycek briefly rolled his eyes to the ceiling as a habitual gesture of evasiveness but then he realized that lying would be counterproductive in this particular situation. He had no obligation to cushion Mulder from the truth. Besides, it was about time the man started working just as hard as he for their survival. 

"You know I'll do whatever it takes to stay alive..."

"So what are you saying Krycek?" But Mulder knew exactly what he was saying, he just wanted to make the other man admit it. He wanted to see him squirm as he told the truth, ...or to see if he would lie.

"Do you expect me to be ashamed Mulder, is that it? Cause if you do, I'm sorry to disappoint you, I don't feel the least bit ashamed. I told you, I'll do whatever I have to."

"Just tell me, I want to hear it from you, please don't make me guess."

The game'd gone on too long. Krycek arose from the dark corner where he'd been squatting and walked over to the other man. He knelt in front of Mulder who was leaning against the wooden clapboard wall. His seductive challenge came as a mere whisper. "How about if I *show* you Mulder?"

He was barely able to form the syllable "no" which never quite got past his throat before a hand jutted out and pulled loose the string tie from the waist of his institutional prison trousers. While Mulder tried to scramble away as quickly as possible, a strong arm reached out and grabbed his forearm, pressing it hard against the wall. 

The sarcasm was subtle but biting, "Relax man, you have *no* idea what I'm going to do, right? No idea at all." For a second, a part of Mulder's mind allowed himself to believe what Alex was saying, that his question had been a totally innocent inquiry and that there was a wide range of possible innocent interpretations to the term "favors". Krycek sensed what was happening and used the moment wisely to reach into his former partner's pants and grab him hard by the testicles. 

He yelped, but he couldn't go anywhere. Krycek relaxed his grip when Mulder became still and tightened when he moved. With his free hand he was eventually able to work the other man's pants away from his hips, exposing his cock, and he leaned his head forward towards the other man's crotch.

"Get away from me Krycek." He tried squirming out of range, but he was helpless. He felt the other man's breathe against his skin and found himself growing aroused in spite of his anger. 

Krycek was speaking directly to the other man's penis. "You wanted to know, ...Mulder." and then his mouth covered the flaccid organ, drawing it in and sucking hard.

"Oh god, ...you'll pay for this, ...oh god, stop it Krycek." He felt nothing at first, nothing but an irritating dampness. But then the mouth pulled away, practiced lips contracting hard around the diminishing softness. It was good, and it had been so long. His cock quickly began to grow large and hard in the unwanted mouth. "No" he managed to say one more time, attempting to push the head away from him. Alex squeezed hard on Mulder's balls causing him to wince in pain.

With a frustrated sigh he cracked his head back hard against the splintering clapboard wall of the mining cabin. "Stop it you fucker, I'll kill you if you don't stop."

Krycek stopped temporarily but maintained a tight and threatening grip on Mulder's genitals. "I think you like it Mulder, I know *I* like it,...always have. You know what your problem is Mulder? You don't know when to 'try a little tenderness.' Instead of beating the shit out of me you could've been sucking me off. Sex, not violence is the more effective pacifier." Krycek laughed to himself and bent his head back down onto the now stiff cock beneath him. 

He sat back and let the other man continue. He was giving up too easily, he told himself, but what could he do? Krycek was going to play out this sick little game to the end. Guiltily he thought to himself that he had been somewhat responsible through his taunts and his sick sense of curiosity. As a distraction he tried to concentrate on a fantasy, one he'd had a lot over the recent years, Scully underneath him, moaning, clenching her muscles around him. But he always felt dirty when he thought about her that way, like he was violating her, betraying her trust. His mind came back to the here and now, to what was really happening, Krycek, his former partner and erstwhile enemy, was giving him an incredible blowjob. His traitorous hip thrust upwards and he tried to focus on another fantasy. One of his favorite tapes, the blond, chained up and fucked from behind as she licked another woman. He'd always liked to picture himself as the man, ...they'd never shown his face..., and it was such a rough scene... But no, that wasn't working either. He wasn't able to concentrate, Comrade Krycek was making way too much noise moaning and humming up and down over his stiff shaft. 

Krycek moved his spare hand up under Mulder's shirt, ...the other man didn't even notice..., and began gently, and then more roughly messaging his quarry's nipples which unconsciously grew hard beneath his ministrations. The hand that was forcefully clutching Mulder's testicles loosened, the grip became a caress. He wondered if Mulder even realized the rhythmic thrusts and cries he was making, he had such a nether-worldly look on his face. 

From the corner of his eye he noticed Mulder's fingertips clenching the rotted baseboard. Soon they would be on his head, he knew, pushing him along, encouraging him to finish. The cock in his mouth was larger and harder than he'd ever imagined, and he was so fucking easy! The poor man must not have had any in a long time. ...He had a little trick to play, something to make the him beg for it, to make him abandon his belief that he was somehow being raped... which might *actually* come later.... He sucked hard on Mulder, quickly, taking him as deeply down his throat as possible. For several long moments the rhythm was frantic, harder and faster than would ever be possible with intercourse but with the added sucking and tonguing motion that made oral sex so extraordinary. Mulder gasped and involuntarily jackknifed his body outward to give Alex better access. Through the motion of his mouth, Krycek grinned to himself. When Mulder was almost to the edge, it was time to slow things down. He suddenly slackened his lips and deliberately assumed a lazy and disinterested rhythm. And then he stopped, crouching in front of Mulder with his mouth lazily hanging over the other man's cock. And the strategy worked far better and far more quickly than he'd ever imagined.

"Finish it Krycek." The frustration in the other man's voice was palpable. "Finish me off, you motherfucker." 

No, he wouldn't move, not until he felt those hands and that voice begging for it. "Say please Mulder."

"Please finish me off." Mulder answered him with evident disdain.

"Say it like you want it or I won't." Alex darted his tongue out and licked the entire length of Mulder's erect shaft eliciting another frustrated moan. Then he moved his entire head away and resumed a painful and threatening grasp on Mulder's balls. Several seconds elapsed before either of them made any motion.

"Do me Krycek, finish me off ...please." This time his voice betrayed a desperate need.

"Then you move me, you set the rhythm with your hands on my head. ....I want you to fuck my face." Still and silent, Krycek waited for an answer. A few seconds later he felt hands reluctantly assume a position of control around his temples and hairline. After he took the cock back into his mouth his head was roughly jerked forward and back. "Easy man,...slow and even."

With the rhythm out of his control, Alex concentrated on engaging every other whore's trick he knew in order to blow Mulder's mind and totally seduce him. He used both hands to caress Mulder's ass, his nipples. He inserted the first joint of his finger into the other man's anus and gently frigged him in time to the rhythm of the blowjob. His tongue and lips worked continually, twirling and sucking as his mouth was pushed over and over the other man's cock. 

Suddenly Mulder violently held Krycek's head hard and fast against his crotch as he was overtaken by orgasm. He pumped jets of hot, thick and sticky cum down the other man's throat causing Alex to gag and choke. Alex swallowed quickly, briefly savoring the taste and feel of it, slightly regretful that he had relinquished control to the other man during the very sweetest moment. 

Eventually Mulder's orgasm subsided and the gripe on Krycek's head relaxed. For a short while they lay together on the floor, Mulder slumped against the wall with Krycek curled up in front of him, his head on his lap, Krycek's lips still pressed against the damp and softening flesh. When Mulder was finally able to focus his thoughts in view of the situation, he scornfully pushed the other man's head off his legs with a thud, and wearily scooted several inches to a new position along the wall.

Krycek lay on the floor and bitterly considered his ex-partners hateful little gesture. He angrily arose from the floor and stood over Mulder who had collapsed exhausted, and totally satiated, against the cabin wall. "Now its my turn Mulder, you do me."

Mulder briefly looked upward with a look of pure incredulousness. "I'm just not that grateful for your service, in case you haven't noticed."

"Oh yeah, I noticed, not very nice of you, Mulder. But I don't expect you to be grateful, just reciprocal. Now suck me off."

"Go to hell."

"No I'll send you to hell though." Out of his pocket Krycek pulled a Makarov 9mm pistol and thrust it into Mulder's face."

"Where in the hell did you get *that*?"

"I took it from the guard who I strangled to death with my bare hands last night, ...after I sucked him of course. I've got his wallet and money too." He smiled down on the other man. "You know exactly how far I'll go to survive, now I want to see how far you'll go." He briefly indicated towards his crotch with the pistol.

"Get away from me Krycek, you're out of your mind."

"You overestimate your position Mulder. You're out in the middle of nowhere in a country where you don't even speak the language. The KGB or god knows who is out looking for you since you escaped from prison and there's a gun to your head. ...The only thing keeping you alive right now is your ability to suck my cock."

"Why, Krycek?" A shocked acceptance of the situation was evident in his voice.

"Let's just say its my ironic little revenge for you having hit me one to many times." He unzipped his trouser and stepped forwards toward the other man firmly pressing the gun against his head. "Bite me and I'll blow your head off. ...Like I said, I don't need your ass, ...I *want* your ass, but I don't need your deadweight ass"

Mulder arose to his knees and cautiously pressed his face forward. A long repressed memory stirred his curiosity, he'd always wanted to do this..., but never under *these* circumstances. The heady smell of the two-day unwashed crotch made him recoiled at first but then again there a something incredible compelling about it, sexually compelling in fact. As the butt of the pistol ground into his skull he pulled the trousers down away from the slim hips in front of him. Alex rock hard cock feel forward and bumped him on the face, brushing over his lips, making him want to retch. When he opened his mouth to form a protest, "I cunnno..." and Alex drove his cock forward, thought the teeth, hard against the back of Mulder's mouth, pushing his head up against the wall. To keep from gagging, he opened as wide as he could to accommodate the width and length of it. He was petrified of the pistol which Alex was now lewdly stroking up and down the side of his face. As offensive as the situation was, he knew he didn't want to die for this, not in this kind of shitty situation, not from this man's hands.

Mulder steadied himself on his knees by grasping Alex's hips, drawing his thumbs simultaneously over both hipbones. It was actually quite sexy, he thought, the sharpness of the bones and the smoothness of the skin covering them, leading downward to the rough pubic hair and towards the rigid cock. He briefly leaned the side of his face against the concavity of Alex's lower abdomen relishing the silky feel of the skin there, and drew the cock deeply into his mouth. Alex responded with a satisfied sigh which Mulder found encouraging and, to his embarrassment, quite exciting. As he drew his mouth away from the cock he noted the bitter salty taste of pre-ejaculate on the tip, ...it wasn't bad at all. Encouraged by the spread fingers gently woven through his hair he began to establish a rhythm which Alex matched moan for thrust. Mulder briefly tried imagining he was sucking himself and found he was getting turned on all over again. The speed picked up. He was definitely having the desired effect on Alex, whose head was thrown back, his mouth emitting an almost constant moan. 

"Oh Christ, Mulder, this is so good," Alex leaned into the mouth, forcing much more of himself down the other man's throat than he knew Mulder could handle, all the while keeping a tight grip on his pistol. Mulder amazed him by not gagging and working the extra inches with his lips and tongue. Through his moans Alex smiled to himself with victorious satisfaction when he felt a rapacious groping hand move up through his inner thigh to his asscheeks. Elegant fingers parted him and repeatedly traced along the inside crack, and towards his testicles over and over the tight ring of muscle, threatening to invade. Several times Alex had to check himself, he was getting out of hand, thrusting foreward so releckless he almost knocked Mulder over, the back of his head was already pushed hard up against the wall, roughly driven upward with each shove. He was overcome with a perverse feeling of satisfaction when he realized that he was raping Mulder, ...orally, and that Mulder, even though he was completely blown away by the physical demands of his rapist, seemed to be enjoying it.

Mulder gently placed his hand on both round muscles feeling the firm flesh jiggle as Krycek repeatedly rammed himself forward. He drew his hands downward to the muscles on tops of Alex's thighs feeling them tense and relax with each push. Krycek was now only a few seconds away from cumming. He worked it hard to finish him off by engaging many of the same techniques Alex had used. He relentlessly twirled his tongue over the shaft, humming and gently gnawing at the sensitive skin underneath. He fully intended on pulling away when the other man started to orgasm but a lascivious curiosity stopped him. Suddenly Alex cried out loudly, his entire body shuttering as he released himself into the other man's mouth. Mulder felt almost proud of himself when he received the creamy reward of Alex's cum. A man totally debilitated by pleasure beneath his very teeth, ... and all because of a lewd sex act he had been forced to perform. 

Eventually the cock began to grow soft and he let it fall out against his chin, allowing the cum to dribble over his lips and out the side of his mouth. While Alex lovingly stroked his hair and face, he glanced upwards and caught the other man's astounded gaze. He surprised even himself by by making a deliberate show of savoring and licking the cum away from his chin. 

Alex feel to his knees beside Mulder and devoured the sticky mouth. He forced his tongue across the lips and through his teeth and found another tongue fighting just as hard to taste him. Hands and arms fought each other to caress and grope skin and muscle. Both men lay down together on the clapboard floor, kissing and feeling each other up with an almost violent intensity. Mulder felt questing hands over his stomach, his chest, down his back. He ran his own hands through Krycek's short hair, kissing him ravenously. With a near brutality, Alex bit and sucked Mulder's nipples, his neck, his lips. He thrust his tongues in and out of Mulder's ear and huskily murmured, "I'd love to fuck you but..."

"You're too tired, its okay." Mulder's voiced was slurred. After several minutes their movements began to slow. They physically clung to each other for warmth and comfort, arms around waists, thighs pressed between thighs, lips to skin. Mulder felt himself drifting off to sleep. Of all the strange things that had happened to him over the previous two weeks this was probably the strangest. But he didn't want to think about it too much, he just wanted to sleep. 

Eventually he felt the other body shifting out of his grasp. Alex was pushing himself up by his hands, adjusting his clothing and checking the pistol. Mulder briefly looked up. Alex's hand was raised above his head and the butt of the pistol was coming down fast, suddenly cracking against Mulder's skull and sending him into blackness. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Agent Mulder, Agent Mulder, wake up, you've suffered a mild concussion."

He opened his eyes to see a well-dress youngish man, obviously an American, shaking his shoulders. Around him were several Russian police officers and another man who looked to be an American Marine. 

"Where am I? Who are you?"

"You're at the abandoned lead mines. I'm Richard Barret, American consul in Krasnoyarsh. Last night we were anonymously tipped off that you would be here and that your life was in danger. I'm glad we found you still alive. You could have died of exposure within a few hours. The temperatures are supposed to plummet below freezing tonight." 

Mulder tried pushing himself up on his elbows. He noted thankfully that his trousers and clothing had been closed and pulled back over his body. He was also wearing the dead guard's jacket. "Who called you?"

"It was an unidentified Russian man." The consulate officer helped him to his feet. "Mr. Mulder, we're taking you back to the consulate office to have an American doctor check you out. Hopefully you'll be all right to travel. We'd like to send you back to the United States as soon as possible, you've been subpoenaed to testify before a Senate Committee."

"...What?" The marine helped him walk out of the cabin and up the embankment where several cars were waiting by the roadside.

Barret continued talking, "I know its all very confusing to you now but I'll explain it in as much detail as possible during our drive back to the office."

"Where's the other man who was with me? There was another man who was traveling with me, another American."

"There isn't anyone else Mr. Mulder, you were by yourself just as we expected to find you."

"No,... he has got to be the one who called you and told you I was here. His name is Alex Krycek."

"The man who called to tip us of was definitely a Russian, he didn't speak any English at all. But if there was anyone else traveling with you there'll be a record of his entry. We'll find out where he is. In the meantime you need to concentrate on getting well enough to travel as quickly as possible. You're holding up Senate proceedings"

His thoughts were still fuzzy during the ten hour drive back. Maybe Krycek had contacted his Russian connections to arrange for his own escape out of the country. To exactly what extent he had been set up by Krycek remained to be seen, or perhaps *never* known. But the feel of Alex's skin was still burning on his lips, ...he definitely had some unfinished business with the man.

The end.


End file.
